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---
At four thirty in the morning, Link discovered that Ram and Rem did not clean the mansion.
They prevented it from falling apart.
The difference was written across four sheets of paper.
The first contained the kitchen schedules: light the stoves, heat water, prepare breakfast, inspect the pantry, separate the ingredients for the meals, calculate portions, and begin anything that might require slow cooking.
The second detailed the cleaning of bedrooms, hallways, and common areas. It did not simply say, "Clean the east wing." It specified which windows needed to be opened first, which ones could not remain exposed to the wind, which pieces of furniture had to be moved away from direct sunlight, and which rooms merely needed airing out even if no one had used them.
The third was a laundry list.
Link read it twice.
Then a third time.
Some clothes could be washed together, while others could not share water even by accident. Some garments tolerated heat, others became deformed by it, lace had to dry in the shade, and several of Roswaal's outfits, according to a note written by Ram, "cost more than Barusu's complete education."
The fourth sheet was the worst.
Not because it was the longest.
Because its heading read:
Tasks that occur occasionally and must not be forgotten while attending to daily duties.
Beneath it were the inspection of supplies, lamps, tools, and the outer perimeter, the recording of damage, and a check of the forest barrier before sunset.
Link placed the sheets upon the kitchen table.
Luci floated above his shoulder, emitting a soft light in the darkness.
"Do not make that face," Link murmured.
The small sphere flickered.
"I know exactly what I am doing."
Luci dimmed slightly.
"You do not trust me either."
There was no answer.
Link inhaled.
Then he looked toward the stove.
Firewood waited beneath the iron plate. There was tinder, fine kindling, and a flint lighter Rem had prepared. He could have used it.
He did not.
He extended two fingers.
A small flame appeared between them.
It did not explode.
It did not roar.
It did not illuminate the entire kitchen.
It was merely a red tongue of fire the size of a coin.
Link smiled.
He moved it toward the tinder more slowly than necessary, watching as the dry edge darkened, curled, and finally accepted the fire. The flames spread through the kindling. The smell of burning wood mixed with the cold predawn air.
For several seconds, Link simply watched.
The light moving.
The paper shrinking.
The heat growing beneath his hand.
Luci moved closer to his cheek.
Link blinked.
"Yes. Cooking."
He closed his fingers and extinguished Goa before the flame could grow.
The first test of the day had ended without a crater.
It was a good beginning.
By five, the kitchen was alive.
Two pots occupied the stove. One contained local oats slowly cooking with milk and spices; the other held hot water for tea. Bread, sliced fruit, butter, and meat Link had prepared the previous night rested upon another surface so he would not be starting entirely from nothing.
He did not use the kagunes to touch food.
Rem had not expressly forbidden it, but she did not need to. The organs had pierced bodies, trees, and Mabeasts. The fact that they could regenerate did not make them kitchen utensils.
Instead, he prepared four thick fabric sleeves for their tips.
With them, he opened shutters, transported firewood, held a basket, and placed an empty pot upon a side table without bringing them near anything that would be served.
The limbs moved slowly.
One task for each.
No throwing things.
No holding six objects out of pride.
No proving that he could.
That last one proved surprisingly difficult.
At five thirty, he opened the windows in the main hallways.
At six, he lit the lamps in the darkest areas and extinguished those made unnecessary by the dawn.
At six fifteen, he left hot water outside the corresponding rooms.
At six thirty, he returned to the kitchen, removed the oats before they stuck, and checked the bread.
At six forty-three, one of the kagunes accidentally struck a doorframe.
The wood creaked.
Link became still.
He looked at the mark.
It was not deep.
Barely a line.
He took a piece of charcoal from his pocket and wrote something in the margin of the list:
Repair before lunch.
He did not attempt to hide it.
The day had barely begun, and he had already learned something important: hiding a mistake consumed more time than correcting it.
At seven, the dining room was ready.
Not perfect.
Ready.
The dishes were aligned. The cups occupied their proper places. Breakfast remained hot. Beatrice's tea contained fewer leaves than Roswaal's, Emilia received a slightly larger portion of fruit, and Subaru had enough food before him to feed a convalescent who would undoubtedly insist that he was healthy.
Link finished placing the final plate when he heard footsteps.
He turned.
Rem entered the dining room.
She was wearing her maid uniform.
Link closed his eyes.
"No."
Rem stopped.
"Good morning, Link."
"No."
She looked at her own clothing.
"Rem has not said anything yet."
"You do not need to. You are wearing your uniform."
"This is not the usual work uniform."
Link opened his eyes.
He examined her more carefully.
The dress was slightly less rigid, lacked several accessories, and the apron appeared simpler. It remained black, white, orderly, and entirely incapable of conveying rest.
"Is that a resting uniform?"
"Yes."
"That does not exist."
"Link is looking at it."
"Its physical existence does not mean it should exist morally."
Rem tilted her head slightly.
"Rem does not possess any other clothing appropriate for walking through the mansion."
Before Link could answer, Subaru appeared behind her, wrapped in a blanket with his hair flattened by sleep.
He looked at Rem.
Then at Link.
"I agree with him. That is a maid uniform that removed one ribbon and decided to lie."
"Subaru should be resting," Rem said.
"I am. I am walking toward a chair."
"You will return to your room after breakfast," Link said.
Subaru pointed at him.
"Do not abuse your temporary power."
"Roswaal gave me domestic authority."
"He gave you permission to clean."
"Inside this house, those are practically the same thing today."
Ram entered next.
She was also wearing clothing similar to her usual uniform, although without an apron and with her hair slightly less arranged.
Link looked at her.
"You too."
"Ram will not accept criticism from someone who uses four monstrous limbs to open windows."
"It is efficient."
"So would demolishing the walls be."
"Do not rule it out for the third day."
Ram walked past him.
Her expression was normal.
Her posture as well.
But Link noticed something when she sat down.
A minimal delay.
Ram's hand remained upon the back of the chair for a fraction of a second before releasing it. Her eyelids lowered more than usual. A faint shadow rested beneath her visible eye.
"Did you sleep?" he asked.
Ram looked at him.
"Enough."
"That is not an amount."
"Nor is it the gardener's concern."
Link held her gaze.
Ram did not look away.
Rem observed them both.
"Nee-sama remained busy until late with some of Roswaal-sama's affairs."
"Rem," Ram said.
She did not raise her voice.
She did not need to.
Rem closed her mouth.
Roswaal entered at that moment, accompanied by Emilia and Puck. Beatrice appeared through a door Link was almost certain did not connect to the dining room.
Everyone occupied their places.
Link served.
The first problem came from Roswaal.
The nobleman picked up his cup, drank, and raised one painted eyebrow.
"A little hotter than usual."
Link nodded.
"I will remember that."
Ram looked at him as though expecting a defense.
None came.
The second problem was Beatrice.
She tasted her tea.
"Too weak, I suppose."
"I used the written measurement."
"Betty did not ask for an excuse."
"It was not an excuse either. Tomorrow, I will add slightly more."
Beatrice narrowed her eyes.
Then drank again.
The third problem was Emilia.
She did not complain.
That worried Link more.
"Is it all right?" he asked.
Emilia looked up.
"Yes. It is good."
"You said that after thinking for too long."
"I was only trying to decide how to say it."
"What is wrong with it?"
Emilia pointed toward the oats.
"I think this part has a little too much salt."
Link took a clean spoon and tasted it.
She was right.
It was not serious. Merely a small difference caused by confusing two similar containers during the predawn hours.
"Yes."
Subaru watched him.
"Are you not going to pretend it is a foreign recipe?"
"No."
"Or claim that salt improves character development?"
"No."
Link took Emilia's bowl.
"I will bring you another serving."
"You do not have to—"
"Yes, I do."
He replaced it in less than a minute.
When he returned, Ram was still watching him.
"What?" Link asked.
"Nothing."
"That sounded worse than criticism."
"Ram merely expected greater resistance."
"I do not have time."
Subaru smiled behind his cup.
"He has unlocked responsibility's final form: being too busy to argue."
"You can unlock it too by becoming quiet," Link said.
"I refuse to skip stages."
Breakfast ended without broken plates, fires, or poisoning.
To Link, that counted as victory.
To Ram, it apparently barely qualified as an acceptable beginning.
"The dining room must be ready before the bedrooms are started," she said while standing.
Link collected two plates with his hands and four more with the covered kagunes.
"I know."
"The table must be cleaned before moisture marks the wood."
"I know that too."
"Do not mix the table cloths with the kitchen cloths."
"They are separated."
Ram observed the two baskets beside the door.
One bore a white ribbon.
The other a red one.
She fell silent.
Link smiled.
"Anything else?"
"Yes."
"What?"
"Do not make that face. You have only survived breakfast."
Rem did not know how to rest.
Link confirmed it before nine.
He found her behind a half-open door, watching him separate the laundry.
He did not hear her arrive.
He smelled her.
Soap, clean fabric, gentle herbs, and that presence his body distinguished before his mind wished to admit it.
Link continued working for several seconds.
He separated the cotton sheets, set the lace aside, and placed Roswaal's garments in another basket.
"The left sleeve of the purple outfit cannot be washed with the others," Rem said from the doorway.
Link raised the garment.
He examined it.
There was delicate embroidery near the cuff.
"Will it stain?"
"It may lose its intensity."
Link placed it inside another container.
"Thank you."
Rem stepped inside.
"Rem can handle that piece."
"No."
"It would only be one."
"No."
"Link does not know the correct treatment."
"You just told me."
"The water must still be prepared at a temperature—"
"You can explain it."
Rem remained silent.
Link continued organizing the garments.
"You can watch," he said. "You may correct me if something is about to be destroyed. You cannot touch anything."
"That remains work for Rem."
"Then consider it critical entertainment."
"Rem does not find watching another person perform her duties badly entertaining."
"Perfect. You have found an activity for your day off."
The corner of Rem's lips moved.
So little that Link was uncertain whether he had seen it.
She remained beside the doorway.
She did not touch anything.
Link heated the water, checked its temperature, and began with the durable garments. He used his hands for the delicate pieces. The kagunes, covered with clean sleeves, transported containers, held heavy sheets, and lifted them for wringing with gradually applied pressure.
One of the sheets creaked.
Link immediately loosened his grip.
Rem tensed as well.
The fabric survived.
"Less force," she said.
"I know."
"Rem did not mean it as criticism."
"I know."
Link tried again.
This time, the sheet was spread without a single mark.
Rem watched the movement.
"You have improved."
Link turned his head slightly.
"Thank you."
He added nothing.
He did not transform the praise into a joke.
He did not ask whether it counted as administrative romance.
He simply continued working.
That absence appeared to surprise Rem more than any response could have.
By nine thirty, the laundry was being washed in separate batches.
At ten, the first portion had been hung to dry.
At ten fifteen, Link began the rooms in the east wing.
Rem followed him for a while.
At a distance.
Without intervening.
She was a calm presence, although too attentive to be called rested.
In the third room, Link opened the windows, removed the dust, changed the water in the vase, and left the bed airing. In the fourth, he found an old stain upon a carpet and treated it before continuing. In the fifth, he discovered that one drawer would not close.
He wrote it down.
He did not attempt to repair it immediately.
Rem watched the charcoal move across the sheet.
"Will you not repair it?"
"After lunch."
"You could do it now."
"I could. I could also lose twenty minutes and delay the other rooms."
Rem lowered her gaze toward the list.
"Rem would have repaired the drawer while airing the following room."
"You have been doing this for years."
"Yes."
"I have been doing it for one morning."
The answer was not defensive.
Only true.
Rem remained silent.
Link finished the room.
When he left, he found her still looking at the drawer.
"The house does not function because you perform one task at a time," he said. "It functions because you know what can wait without becoming a problem."
Rem looked up.
Link pointed toward the list.
"That is what I am attempting to copy."
She observed her own notes.
Then the rooms already attended to.
"Link is using Rem's work."
"Of course."
"Then the mansion does not function without Rem."
"I never said it did."
Something changed in her face.
Not a smile.
Nor complete relief.
A tension loosened behind her visible eye.
Link moved on to the next room.
Rem stopped following him shortly afterward.
Ram had chosen to read.
At least, that was what the open book upon her lap claimed.
She had not turned a page in several minutes.
She sat inside a small room beside a window. Roswaal had disappeared into his office after breakfast. Emilia accompanied Subaru in the garden, where he received sunlight and pretended it counted as heroic activity. Puck floated nearby within his usual schedule.
Rem entered.
Ram did not look up.
"Is the mansion still standing?"
"Yes."
"A tragedy for Ram's expectations."
Rem sat across from her.
"Link prepared the washing correctly."
"I understand."
"He separated the delicate garments."
"Miraculous."
"He also organized the rooms by priority."
"Rem has said his name three times in less than one minute."
Rem blinked.
Ram turned a page without having read the previous one.
"Is nee-sama upset?"
"Ram is resting."
"That does not answer."
"Then it was an unnecessary question."
Rem placed her hands together upon her lap.
For several seconds, only the distant movement of a window being opened could be heard.
"Link is making an effort," Rem said.
"Link decided to carry an entire mansion to demonstrate that others should not carry too much."
"Yes."
"The contradiction appears to escape him."
"Rem believes he knows it."
Ram looked up.
Rem did not appear amused.
Nor naïve.
There was concern inside her.
A concern different from what she felt for Subaru. Less gentle, perhaps. More vigilant. As though she still did not know whether to approach Link or prevent him from running toward the next disaster.
Ram closed the book.
"He loves you."
Rem became still.
"He said so."
"Ram was present."
"Rem does not know what to do with that."
"Nothing."
The answer came immediately.
Rem slightly lowered her gaze.
Ram continued:
"A confession does not create an obligation. Nor does it turn the man who makes it into someone sensible."
"Rem knows."
"He is violent, reckless, grotesquely resilient, and possesses an unhealthy relationship with fire."
A dry sound came from the hallway.
Something struck a wall.
Link muttered a curse.
Then came the scratching of charcoal against paper.
Ram narrowed her eye.
"He also breaks things."
Rem looked toward the door.
"He is writing it down."
"That does not repair the wall."
"He will do it after lunch."
Ram looked back at her.
Rem took a moment to understand.
"Nee-sama was listening."
"The gardener is loud."
"Yes."
Ram reopened the book.
"Rem should sleep."
"Nee-sama should as well."
"Ram is reading."
"Nee-sama has not properly turned a single page."
Ram looked up.
Rem smiled faintly.
It was a small smile.
Familiar.
Reckless.
Ram closed the book again.
"The gardener is making Rem insolent."
"Link is not here."
"That makes it worse."
Rem stood.
"Rem will rest for a while."
"Good."
"Nee-sama should do the same."
"Ram will decide that."
Rem walked toward the door.
Before leaving, she stopped.
"Nee-sama."
"What?"
"Rem is glad Link can perform the work."
Ram did not answer.
"But Rem is also glad he is using Rem's lists."
The door closed.
Ram observed the book.
Then the window.
Then the direction in which her sister had disappeared.
Something unpleasant moved inside her chest.
It was not jealousy.
The word felt too simple.
Nor was it distrust, although there was plenty of that.
It was the sensation that Rem had begun constructing a place where Ram did not occupy all the available space.
Ram should have considered that healthy.
Instead, it appeared complicated.
Profoundly complicated.
She opened the book.
She did not read a single line.
Link served lunch at the appointed time.
He did not prepare three dishes from his world.
He did not attempt to impress anyone.
He made a thick stew with meat, roots, and vegetables, accompanied by toasted bread and a simple salad. He had left the broth cooking while he cleaned, and the low fire had performed most of the work without requiring constant attention.
Subaru tasted the first bite.
"It is good."
"Thank you."
"Far too undramatic."
"It is lunch, not a declaration of war."
"With you, one can never know."
Roswaal tasted the stew.
"Adequate."
Ram raised one eyebrow.
"Roswaal-sama said adequate."
Link looked at the nobleman.
"Is that good?"
"It means I have no reason to replace you before dinner."
"I will accept that."
Beatrice appeared only to eat and immediately left the dining room afterward, taking a small portion of bread she denied having taken.
Emilia thanked him for the food.
Puck requested a piece of meat.
Link gave it to him before remembering that he had not calculated portions for spirits.
He wrote it down.
Then he cleared the table, left the utensils soaking, and returned to the east wing to repair the door and drawer.
At two, the rooms were ready.
At three, the garden had been watered.
At three thirty, the dry laundry began returning to its baskets.
At ten minutes before four, Link checked the final sheet.
And became still.
Outer barrier.
He looked at the time.
Then at the kitchen, where dinner had not yet been started.
The baskets of clothing.
The broken lamp that needed replacing.
The pending flour inventory.
Luci floated before his face.
"Do not say anything."
The sphere flickered.
"We are going."
He put on his work jacket, took the crystal prepared for the inspection, and left the dinner meat marinating before departing.
He found Rem beside the main door.
She wore a light cloak.
"No."
"Rem has not said anything."
"Again."
"Link does not know the barrier's exact location."
"It is on the list."
"The list describes the route. Not the signs upon the terrain."
"I can follow them."
"The afternoon is advancing."
"I can run."
"That would defeat the purpose of checking the route."
Link held Rem's gaze.
She held his.
"Today is your rest day."
"The barrier protects the mansion and the village."
"I know."
"If something has failed, rest no longer matters."
"That is exactly what someone incapable of resting would say."
Rem lowered her gaze slightly.
Link exhaled.
"You may come."
She raised her face.
"You will not carry anything. You will not touch the crystal. You will not repair anything. If we find a problem, we return and report it."
"Rem can accept those conditions."
"And it does not count as work."
"That sounds like a lie."
"It is an extremely poorly organized walk."
They left.
The path toward the forest was calm.
Link carried the crystal, a small bag of tools, and a lamp he did not yet require. Rem walked beside him, not behind him.
They did not speak during the first several minutes.
The silence was not uncomfortable.
Link was tired but not exhausted. His shoulders hurt from coordinating the kagunes for hours. His hands smelled of soap, onion, and wood. A small burn upon one finger had already disappeared.
Rem looked at his arms.
"Link managed to complete the morning's duties."
"Yes."
"The food was good."
"Roswaal said adequate."
"Roswaal-sama does not usually evaluate domestic duties with enthusiasm."
"Then it was good."
"Yes."
Link smiled.
They walked another stretch.
"Does it bother you?" he asked.
"What?"
"That the mansion has not burned down."
Rem did not immediately respond.
"Rem did not want Link to fail."
"That was not what I asked."
The path narrowed near the trees.
Rem observed the roots.
"Rem feels relieved."
"Good."
"And slightly unnecessary."
Link stopped walking.
Rem took another step before noticing.
She turned.
He raised the four folded sheets he carried inside his jacket.
"I opened the kitchen because you wrote down how."
Rem observed him.
"I separated the laundry because you noted what could not be mixed. I cleaned the rooms you marked first. I left the stew over the fire because I knew when it needed to be ready. I remembered the barrier because it appeared here."
He shook the papers.
"The house is not functioning without you. It is functioning through work you completed before going to bed."
Rem remained silent.
Link resumed walking.
"Resting does not prove that you are unnecessary."
She returned to his side.
"What does it prove?"
"That your effort can continue protecting this place even when you are not running through every hallway."
Rem lowered her gaze.
"Link speaks as though he understands a great deal."
"I understand nothing. I am tired, and I still need to prepare dinner."
That produced a small laugh.
Brief.
Soft.
Real.
Link felt the exhaustion retreat for one second.
He did not comment upon it.
They reached the inspection point before the sun began disappearing.
The crystal maintained a stable glow.
The markings upon the trees remained intact.
There were no recent Mabeast tracks.
Rem limited herself to watching.
She did not touch.
She did not correct.
She did not work.
Link recorded the condition and stored the crystal.
On the way back, she spoke.
"What does Link expect Rem to do during the remaining two days?"
"Sleep."
"Rem already slept."
"More."
"That seems excessive."
"Walk."
"That is what we are doing."
"Read."
"Rem is not accustomed to reading for entertainment."
"Speak with Ram."
"Rem speaks with nee-sama every day."
"Then learn to do nothing."
Rem frowned slightly.
"That does not appear to be a useful skill."
"That is why you need to practice."
When the mansion appeared at the end of the path, the sunset struck its windows.
Everything remained standing.
Link looked at the time.
"I need to cook."
"Rem can—"
He turned his head.
Rem closed her mouth.
"Fine," she said.
"Thank you."
"Rem will obey only today."
"Tomorrow as well."
"That remains to be seen."
Link smiled.
"You are already learning how to use rest as a threat."
The first day ended well.
Not miraculously.
Well.
Dinner was served fifteen minutes later than Rem would have allowed, but no one went hungry. The laundry was stored. The door was repaired. The flour inventory was written. The lamps worked. The garden survived. Roswaal received his tea. Emilia did not have to search for anything. Beatrice found a cup outside the Library without requesting it and decided not to insult Link for nearly ten seconds.
Ram inspected the results after dinner.
She walked through the dining room.
Looked at the kitchen.
Opened one cupboard.
Checked a basket of clothing.
Found the repaired mark upon the door.
Then returned to the hallway where Link waited with his arms crossed.
"The mansion survived."
"A moving evaluation."
"Dinner was late."
"Fifteen minutes."
"Fifteen minutes is late."
"Tomorrow, it will be ten."
Ram looked at him.
"Ram does not know whether that was humility or a threat."
"Planning."
She walked past him.
"Do not become accustomed to success."
Link waited for her to move away.
"Good night to you too."
"Ram did not say it would be good."
He closed the kitchen near midnight.
The final flame remained alive beneath the ashes.
Link crouched before the stove.
He moved aside a half-consumed piece of wood and contemplated the embers.
Red.
Still.
Waiting for air.
He took a sheet upon which he had incorrectly calculated breakfast quantities. He looked at it for several seconds. A large correction crossed the center of the paper.
He folded it.
He moved it near the heat.
The edge became black.
A small flame traveled across it.
Link watched it disappear.
Luci floated beside him.
"It was garbage."
The sphere glowed.
"And yes, I enjoy watching it."
The paper finished turning into ash.
Link closed the stove.
When he stood, he saw light beneath the door of Roswaal's office.
He stopped.
He could not enter.
Documents were outside his duties.
He heard the movement of a pen.
Then silence.
He thought Roswaal continued working.
He continued toward his room.
He did not smell Ram's gentle trace on the other side of the door.
He was too tired.
The second day began with three problems.
The rain.
The flour.
And Ram.
Rain struck the windows before dawn, steady and cold. All the clothes Link intended to wash would have to dry inside. The recorded flour did not match the real quantity; nearly one sack was missing, probably used during the days following the attack without anyone updating the count.
Ram appeared in the kitchen at five forty.
She was not wearing resting clothes.
She wore her complete uniform.
Link set the knife upon the table.
"No."
"Ram is not here to work."
"You are wearing an apron."
"It is clothing."
"It is a declaration of war."
Ram walked past him and inspected the breakfast pot.
"Too much water."
"I have not finished adding the ingredients."
"Then Ram said nothing."
Link looked at her.
She placed one hand upon the table.
Only for an instant.
But too much weight rested upon those fingers.
"How much did you sleep?"
"Enough."
"That answer again."
"The same unnecessary question again."
"You were in the office last night."
Ram looked up.
Her expression told Link he had guessed correctly without knowing how.
"I cannot touch documents," he continued. "That does not mean you should handle them during your days off."
"Roswaal-sama's affairs do not cease because the gardener is playing at being useful."
"I am not playing."
"Then cut the vegetables before the water boils."
Link did not move.
Neither did Ram.
Luci descended between them, glowing nervously.
"Return to your room," Link said.
"No."
"Ram."
"The gardener has no authority over Ram."
"Roswaal gave it to me regarding domestic matters."
"Documents are not domestic."
"Fainting inside my kitchen would be."
Ram's eye sharpened.
"How insolent."
"How tired."
Ram stepped toward him.
For one moment, Link believed she would strike him.
Instead, she took a cup, poured water, and drank.
"Ram will supervise breakfast."
"Seated."
"Ram will decide—"
A kagune placed a chair behind her.
Another moved the cup aside.
Ram looked at the limbs.
Then at Link.
"Seated," he repeated.
Ram sat.
Not from obedience.
Probably because her legs had accepted the decision before her pride did.
Link returned to the vegetables.
Breakfast was ready on time.
The flour was unnecessary. He prepared eggs, meat, fruit, and bread from the previous day warmed upon the stove. No one mentioned the menu change.
Roswaal observed Ram throughout the meal.
She avoided looking at him.
Rem did.
Several times.
When breakfast ended, Ram stood too quickly.
The dining room tilted beneath her feet.
Only Link appeared to notice.
She stabilized herself before anyone said anything.
"Ram will return to her room," she announced.
Link did not believe a word.
At nine, the rain intensified.
At ten, one of the drainage pipes in the inner courtyard became blocked by leaves.
At ten fifteen, Link had three rooms airing, two loads of laundry occupying the bath, a pending tray for Roswaal, water accumulating in the courtyard, and seven Wolgarms awaiting food in the outer enclosure.
He could not be in four places.
The kagunes could.
But they could not think.
He left one holding a basket beneath shelter, another removing leaves from the drain through simple movements, and the remaining two carrying clothing while he transported Roswaal's tray.
The hallway leading toward the office was clean.
The door to one guest room stood open.
Link stopped.
It should not have been.
He placed the tray upon a side table and entered.
Ram stood beside the window.
She held a cloth in one hand.
"No," Link said.
She ran one finger across the frame.
"Dust."
"That room was scheduled for after lunch."
"Then the schedule was deficient."
"You should be sleeping."
"Ram slept."
"How much?"
She did not answer.
Link advanced.
Ram left the cloth upon the table.
"The gardener has pending duties."
"Yes."
"Then attend to them."
"I am."
"Ram is not a task."
"Right now, you are."
Her red eye fixed upon him.
"Watch your words."
"Watch your—"
Ram took one step.
The sole of her foot failed to find the floor.
Her expression barely changed.
There was no time for pride, threats, or answers.
Her body tilted.
Link reached her before she struck the carpet.
He held her with one arm behind her back and the other beneath her knees. One kagune drove itself into the floor to stabilize him, while the others dropped the tasks they had been carrying.
In the courtyard, a basket struck the tiles.
In the bathroom, a sheet fell into the water.
In the hallway, Roswaal's tray remained abandoned.
Ram did not react.
"Ram."
Nothing.
"Ram."
He touched her neck.
A pulse.
Rapid, but present.
She was breathing.
Her skin was far too hot.
Link stepped into the hallway.
"Emilia!"
His voice crossed the mansion.
Several doors opened.
Subaru appeared first, still wearing comfortable clothing and with an expression that lost every trace of humor when he saw Ram inside Link's arms.
"What happened?"
"She fainted."
"Is she breathing?"
"Yes. Find Emilia."
"Emilia-tan!"
Subaru ran in the opposite direction.
Link carried Ram to her room.
He did not use a kagune to open the door. He pushed it with his shoulder, placed her upon the bed, and pulled away the blanket.
Emilia arrived shortly afterward, followed by Subaru and Puck.
"She is burning," Link said.
Emilia touched Ram's forehead.
"She needs dry clothing. She has been sweating heavily."
Link immediately moved away.
"I am leaving."
Subaru looked at him.
"Where?"
From somewhere in the mansion came the sound of water spilling.
Link closed his eyes.
"To prevent the day from dying along with her."
"I can help."
"No."
"Link—"
"Stay here."
Subaru blinked.
Link pointed toward Ram.
"Do not let her wake alone."
The protest died before emerging.
Subaru looked at Ram.
Then nodded.
"Go."
Link left.
He found Rem in the hallway.
He did not know who had informed her.
She was pale.
"Nee-sama."
She attempted to enter.
Link did not stop her.
"Emilia is with her."
Rem crossed the doorway.
Link collected Roswaal's tray and continued walking.
He had lost seventeen minutes.
The mansion would not stop to return them.
When Ram opened her eyes, she had a cold cloth upon her forehead.
The room smelled of clean water, mild medicine, and rain.
She attempted to sit up.
"No."
The voice belonged to Subaru.
Ram turned her head.
He sat beside the bed, hugging the back of a chair and looking at her with a frown.
"Barusu."
"Yes. Hello. Welcome to the wonderful world of people who should remain in bed."
Ram looked at her clothing.
Her uniform had disappeared. She wore a simple nightgown.
"Pervert."
Subaru opened his mouth.
"Emilia-tan changed you! I was not even inside the room! Neither was Link! He brought you here, called for help, and ran away because the house began dismantling itself in his absence!"
Ram closed her eyes.
The memory returned.
The window.
The dust.
The sensation of the floor disappearing.
Arms catching her before the impact.
"The gardener dropped a basket," she murmured.
Subaru looked at her as though she had confessed a crime.
"That is what concerns you?"
"Ram heard it."
"So did I. I believe it died."
Ram attempted to stand again.
Subaru placed one hand upon the blanket.
Not upon her.
Only upon the fabric.
"Do not even try."
"Ram has work."
"No."
"Barusu cannot—"
"Link is doing it."
"Link cannot maintain everything alone—"
The sound of rapid footsteps came from the hallway.
Then a door closing.
Then a voice:
"Luci, do not let that cloth fall!"
Ram remained silent.
Subaru tilted his head.
"I do not know how he is doing half of it. But he is doing it."
"For now."
"Yes."
Subaru dampened the cloth again and placed it upon her forehead.
Ram observed him.
"That is unusually considerate."
"I am growing."
"Barusu is merely sitting."
"My finest skill."
Ram closed her eyes.
The cold fabric felt pleasant.
That irritated her.
"Where is Rem?"
"In the hallway."
Ram opened her eye.
"Why?"
"Because she attempted to enter and work three times, and Link blocked her path with a kagune."
Ram imagined the scene.
It was not difficult.
"And Rem accepted that?"
"After threatening to tear it off."
"That sounds more accurate."
Subaru smiled.
"She is now waiting for you to wake."
Ram closed her eye again.
"Let her enter."
Subaru stood.
Before he reached the door, Ram's hand emerged from beneath the blanket.
It caught two of his fingers.
Subaru stopped.
Ram did as well.
She looked at her own hand.
It did not appear to have acted through conscious decision.
Subaru said nothing.
For once.
Ram loosened her fingers.
"Go get Rem."
"Yes."
Subaru opened the door.
Rem entered immediately.
Her eyes went first toward Ram.
Then toward their hands.
Ram withdrew hers beneath the blanket.
Subaru pretended not to have noticed.
He was terrible at pretending.
But he tried.
"Nee-sama."
Rem approached the bed.
Ram observed her.
Blue hair.
A worried face.
Hands clenched against the resting apron that continued to resemble a uniform.
"Ram is fine."
"Nee-sama fainted."
"A minor contradiction."
"It is not."
"Rem is exaggerating."
"Nee-sama slept for one hour."
Subaru turned his head.
"One hour?"
Ram looked at Rem.
"Traitor."
"Rem is worried."
"That does not improve the betrayal."
Rem sat beside the bed.
"Nee-sama will not work again today."
"Ram will not accept orders from Rem."
"Then accept Roswaal-sama's."
Ram fell silent.
Rem had prepared that blow before entering.
A sister's pride.
Painfully competent.
Subaru retreated toward the door.
"I believe I am no longer needed here."
Ram looked at him.
"Barusu never was."
"Thank you. That makes leaving without guilt easier."
He left.
Upon closing the door, he saw Link on the opposite side of the hallway.
His hair was wet from the rain. He carried one basket beneath an arm, two sheets held by kagunes, and a spoon between his teeth.
Subaru stared at him.
Link removed the spoon.
"Did she wake?"
"Yes."
"Is she all right?"
"She says she is."
"Then she is not."
"Exactly."
Link handed him the basket.
Subaru received it by reflex.
"What do I do with this?"
"Nothing. Hold it for one second."
Link adjusted the sheets, recovered the basket, and continued walking.
Subaru watched him leave.
"You are late."
"I know."
"The outside pipe is still leaking."
"I know."
"You have not eaten."
Link stopped walking.
Subaru raised an eyebrow.
"I know," Link repeated, with less conviction.
"Right."
One of the kagunes opened a pocket in his jacket. It removed a strip of dried meat and held it in front of his face.
Link looked at it.
Then at Subaru.
"Do not say anything."
"Your own body is managing you."
Link bit the meat.
"Shut up."
He continued.
Subaru smiled.
He did not follow.
He had learned at least one thing during that week.
Helping did not always mean walking behind someone until they were forced to accept company.
Sometimes, it was enough to make them eat before allowing them to continue.
The second day began twisting out of shape after noon.
Not with one great catastrophe.
With five small ones.
The laundry would not dry.
The courtyard accumulated water again.
The missing flour forced a change to dinner.
One of the Wolgarms refused to eat.
And Beatrice opened a door in the middle of the kitchen to ask where her tea was.
Link stood beside the stove, stirring soup while one kagune cut vegetables upon another table and two more moved drying racks toward the warmest hallway.
The door appeared.
Beatrice crossed her arms.
"Betty has been waiting for six minutes, I suppose."
Link looked at her.
"I did not know you had requested it."
"Betty does not need to request the obvious."
"Today, you do."
Beatrice narrowed her eyes.
"How insolent."
"Strong tea, little sugar."
She remained silent.
"Five minutes," Link added.
"Four."
"Five."
"Betty will accept four and a half."
The door closed.
Link continued stirring the soup.
Luci flickered above the pot.
"Do not laugh."
The sphere brightened.
Rain struck the windows.
Link extinguished one stove, moved the main pot to stronger heat, and prepared the tea.
He could not complete everything according to schedule.
So he stopped trying.
The unused rooms would remain closed.
Polishing the chandeliers could wait.
The garden did not require water.
Dinner would be soup, roasted meat, and vegetables instead of freshly baked bread.
The delicate clothing would dry overnight.
The Wolgarm that refused to eat would receive water, observation, and a later visit.
Priorities.
Not perfection.
When Rem appeared at the kitchen entrance, Link had already reorganized the entire afternoon.
"Rem can help."
A kagune extended across the doorway.
It did not attack.
It merely formed a red bar between both sides of the frame.
Rem looked at it.
"Link."
"No."
"Nee-sama is awake."
"Good."
"The clothing is not dry."
"I know."
"The food—"
"That too."
Rem observed the hallway filled with racks.
Then the soup.
Then the water accumulating beneath a poorly closed window.
"You are behind schedule."
"Yes."
"Rem can solve—"
"Go to Ram."
The answer stopped her.
"Nee-sama does not require Rem beside her at every moment."
"Perhaps not."
"Then—"
"But you need to be with her."
Rem closed her mouth.
Link continued:
"The house can wait five minutes."
"Link said he was behind schedule."
"It is not going to die."
Rem looked at the soup.
"It might burn."
Link extended one hand.
A small flame appeared beneath the pot, stable and controlled.
"It will not burn."
The fire grew slightly.
Only slightly.
Its red reflection moved within Link's eyes.
The pressure of the day, the noise of the rain, and his irritation pushed mana toward his fingers. The flame rose another centimeter, livelier and more beautiful.
Link watched it.
The heat caressed his palm.
He could increase it.
Make the soup boil in seconds.
Dry the laundry.
Warm the entire hallway.
Solve several things at once.
Luci descended until she floated before his eyes.
The sphere released a white flash.
Link blinked.
He closed his fingers.
The flame returned to its previous size.
Small.
Useful.
"Go to Ram," he repeated.
Rem looked at his closed hand.
Then at his face.
"Link also needs rest."
"The third day."
"That is not a sensible answer."
"I learn from all of you."
Rem frowned.
The kagune withdrew from the doorway.
She did not enter.
"Five minutes," she said.
"Take ten."
Rem returned toward Ram's room.
Link waited until he could no longer hear her footsteps.
Then he placed both hands upon the table and breathed.
Ten seconds.
No more.
Then he continued.
Dinner was served twenty-two minutes late.
Ram did not attend.
Neither did Rem.
Link sent two trays to their room.
Roswaal observed the table.
The soup.
The meat.
The vegetables.
The previous day's bread, toasted with butter and herbs to compensate for the absence of flour.
"A less ambitious meal."
Link finished serving.
"A meal that arrived hot."
Roswaal smiled.
"A correct answer."
Emilia tasted the soup.
"It is very good."
"This time, it does not contain too much salt."
"I was not going to mention that."
"You were thinking it."
Subaru raised one hand.
"As a witness to my brother's domestic development, I wish to place on record that today he insulted only two utensils, threatened one pipe, and engaged in territorial negotiations with a four-hundred-year-old girl."
Beatrice drank her tea.
"Betty won the negotiation, I suppose."
"It arrived in five minutes," Link said.
"Four and a half in spirit."
"That does not exist."
"It exists if Betty says so."
Puck was not present. He had retired hours earlier, but Emilia had saved a small portion to tell him about later.
Link sat only after everyone had food.
His legs thanked him with a dull pain.
One of the kagunes trembled beneath his skin.
He did not manifest it.
Subaru noticed.
He said nothing.
Ram would have classified that silence as concerning progress.
Dinner ended.
Link cleared the table.
Washed.
Stored everything.
Checked the fire.
Carried hot water to Ram's room.
Left a cup outside Rem's door.
He went to the Wolgarm enclosure beneath the light rain and inspected the one that had not eaten. It was not ill. It simply refused to touch meat delivered by someone else.
Link crouched, took a piece, and placed it before the creature.
"Eat."
The Wolgarm obeyed.
"Perfect. I also have to feed all of you personally."
Luci flickered beneath his hood.
"Do not start."
When he returned to the mansion, it was past midnight.
The sheets remained damp.
He moved them once more.
Closed the windows.
Left the kitchen ready for morning.
Recorded the missing flour.
Counted the portions of meat.
Inspected the lamps.
Finished.
Not perfectly.
But he finished.
Link dropped into a kitchen chair.
Luci settled upon the table.
For several minutes, there was nothing but the sound of rain.
The door opened.
Rem entered.
She was no longer wearing her resting uniform.
She wore a nightgown covered by a robe.
That, at least, appeared to be clothing worn by someone who should not work.
She carried Ram's empty tray.
"You should have left it outside," Link said.
"Rem wanted to check something."
"Ram is fine."
"She is asleep."
"Better."
Rem set down the tray.
She observed the clean kitchen.
The stored pots.
The floor free of water.
The list hanging beside the pantry.
Then she looked at Link.
"You did it."
"Yes."
"Both days."
"Yes."
"The second was difficult."
Link rested his head against the wall.
"A little."
Rem observed his hands.
They trembled slightly.
Link closed them.
Too late.
"Link did not sleep enough last night."
"I slept."
"How long?"
He smiled.
"Enough."
Rem did not return the smile.
"That is not an amount."
Link looked up.
The statement returned to strike him with a precision that would have made Ram proud.
"Two days," he said. "Everything is done."
"One remains."
"Tomorrow will be easier."
Rem looked toward the sheet prepared for the third day.
Link had left it upon the table.
There were more tasks than during the previous days.
Deep cleaning of the west wing.
Complete pantry inventory.
Changing the bedding.
Inspecting the main bath.
Preparing new meat reserves.
Exterior maintenance.
Attending to the Wolgarms.
And a note written by Roswaal at the bottom of the list:
Reception in the afternoon. Prepare the main dining room.
Rem read it.
Then looked at Link.
He was still smiling.
Not because he believed it would be easy.
Because he was still unwilling to admit otherwise.
Rem took the list.
"Link should sleep now."
"First, I have to prepare the oats—"
"Rem will prepare them."
Link sat straighter.
"No."
"The second day has ended."
"That is cheating."
"It is administrative precision."
"You sound like Ram."
"Rem had a good teacher."
Link attempted to take the sheet.
Rem moved it out of reach.
"Go to sleep."
"I can—"
"Link."
Only his name.
Nothing else.
Exhaustion transformed that simple order into something impossible to resist.
Link stood.
"Do not light the stove."
"Rem knows how to prepare oats without destroying the kitchen."
"It was not because of the kitchen."
She understood.
She looked at the extinguished embers.
Then at him.
"Rem will not light anything."
Link nodded.
He walked toward the door.
Before leaving, he looked over his shoulder.
"Only the oats."
"Only the oats."
"And then you return to sleep."
"Yes."
"Promise."
Rem held his gaze.
"Rem promises."
Link left.
His footsteps receded down the hallway.
Luci floated after him, dimmer than usual.
Rem remained in the kitchen.
She observed the four lists covered in notes, corrections, schedules, and small marks. Two entire days compressed upon paper.
Link had done it.
He had fed the mansion.
He had cleaned it.
He had maintained the rooms, clothing, garden, lamps, perimeter, and even the creatures confined outside.
He had accomplished it without accepting help.
Rem rested her fingers upon the final sheet.
The third day waited.
And the mansion, patient and enormous, had still not taught him the difference between being capable of finishing every task...
and being capable of continuing without destroying himself.